


For His Praise

by propheticfire



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Brief knifeplay, Chains, Father/Son Incest, Hand Jobs, Hurt No Comfort, Incest, M/M, No Lube, Non-Consensual Bondage, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Slight Canon Divergence, Viren captured, Viren's POV, Whump, praise used as humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/pseuds/propheticfire
Summary: Soren decides it's time to give his father what he deserves.
Relationships: Soren/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	For His Praise

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation with some darkshipper friends of mine. One of them specifically mentioned Soren pinning his father to the wall and saying "Naughty boys get punished. Isn't that what you always told me, ~~Pops~~ Dad?" I couldn't get the image out of my head, and I had to write it.
> 
> Note #2: How did _this_ end up being the first smutfic I've actually published on AO3?

There’s the sound of a key in the lock, and then the chamber door opens. It’s his _son._ Viren gets to his feet.

Soren closes the door behind him and walks down the corridor. No guards follow him. Wordlessly, he takes the ring of keys and finds the one for the cell door. He steps through, locks the door behind him, and in just a few strides he stands face to face with Viren. They haven’t been this close since Viren’s capture during the battle, weeks ago. His expression is unreadable.

Soren reaches for Viren’s shackles. “I’m taking these off.”

“What for?” Viren asks, as the chains fall from his wrists.

“For _this!”_

Suddenly Soren lunges at him, pushing him back to the far wall. He hits the stone with such force that the breath leaves his lungs for a moment. One of Soren’s hands is on his chest, pinning him, and the other hand fists in his hair to jerk his head back. The pain of it shoots through him.

“Soren!” Viren gasps. “What are you doing?”

His son’s face is all rage now. White hot, burning behind his eyes. _“Giving you what you deserve.”_ He presses closer. Viren feels Soren’s knee between his legs, pinning him even more firmly to the wall. “You think we’d just let you sit here after what you did? You think _I’d_ just let you sit here?”

Viren is acutely aware that Soren is still wearing his sword. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Soren jerks harder on his hair.  
_“Naughty boys get punished._ Isn’t that what you always told me, _Dad?”_

“What—?”

Before he can even finish the word, Soren spins him around, catching each wrist in the shackles that hang from the ceiling. He hears the sword slide free of its sheath. Then, cold steel, on his back, under the white tunic. The sword slices easily through the material. Up each arm, cutting, until the tunic falls away, leaving him exposed from the waist up. Involuntarily, he shudders.

He hears the sword hiss back into its sheath, and then Soren’s hands are on him again, pushing him face-first into the rough stone. Soren’s knee comes up between his legs again. Just enough pressure in just the right place to make it _hurt_. He gasps. “S-Soren!”

Soren only reaches around to cup Viren through his trousers. To squeeze until Viren’s shaft grows hard and hot at the touch. His face burns just as hot. This isn’t… This can’t…

“So you like this, do you?”

“Soren, I—”

_“Say it, Dad.”_

Soren palms him harder. Each motion jolts him with pain, and a twisted sort of pleasure that makes him sick in his stomach. The ministrations let up only briefly, and then Soren’s hand is in his pants, wrapping around his cock. The callouses on Soren’s fingers drag at his skin. He bites back a moan. No, this is—

“Tell me you like it.”

“Soren—”

_“Tell me.”_ Soren works him faster. His breath is hot on Viren’s ear, his voice devoid of its usual cheerful cadence. “ _Do you like it?”_

Viren can feel the beads of precome already dripping from his slit. His body burns with shame. “No, Soren, please, don’t—”

“Don’t _lie_ to me, Dad, I’m _sick_ of you lying to me!” Soren stops to yank Viren’s trousers down, letting them pool at his ankles. Both hands are on him now, one from the front, pumping his shaft, one from behind squeezing his balls. “ _Do you like it?”_

The sensations pulse through him, sharp pain followed by waves of pleasure. It seeps out of his throat in broken whimpers.

“Yes, _yes_ Soren, I like it! _I like it.”_

He hates it.

Soren abruptly takes his hands away. There’s a brief fumbling, and then Viren cries out, _screams_ out, as his ass is suddenly breached by Soren’s cock. There’s no prep, barely any lubrication. The sharpness of it stings. He scrabbles for something to hold onto, but all he finds is the cold iron of the chains holding his wrists.

“Soren… Soren… Please…”

_“Tell me I’m doing a good job, Dad,”_ Soren sneers in his ear. The thrusts of Soren’s cock burn him. “Am I pleasing you? _Tell me I’m doing good.”_

“Yes! Yes!”

He can’t help it now. Soren is pounding into him, mercilessly, hands digging into his hips. It sparks along his nerves like jolts of lightning. Powerful. Thrilling. Terrifying. Soren hits his prostate again and again, making his body convulse, pushing screams out of his mouth. “Soren! Yes! Yes you’re doing— _Soren!_ A good job! Yes, my _son!_ You’re doing— Soren! So good, so good, _so good—”_

Soren’s hand comes around his throat, forcing his head up. His other hand wraps around his cock again, pumping furiously. He feels the tension build in him, straining as Soren works him toward orgasm. Soren is growling against his neck, stifling the sounds with his teeth as they leave aching marks in his flesh. It’s brutal and it _hurts_ , but Viren’s body continues to betray him. He arches into his son’s hand, drives back against his son’s cock as he thrusts. Thewet slapping of their bodies fills the room, echoing in his ears in a rhythm so primal it ramps his arousal higher and higher. He’s _so hard_ , and his heartbeat throbs in his groin.

Soren times his next thrust with a twist of his hand on Viren’s shaft, and Viren loses what little control he had left.

Howling, shaking, his orgasm rips through him. His seed shoots out hard, hot, hitting him in the face, the chest, painting his abdomen with white stripes. His knee gives out and he sinks to the floor, chains stretching his hands high above his head. Soren follows him to the ground, still thrusting, until his pace begins to stutter. He pushes in deep with a shout, and Viren feels Soren’s burning semen pour into him.

They stay like that for a long moment, both panting, shaking. Soren presses tightly against his back, crushing him against the wall of the cell. The rough stone digs into his chest. Finally, Soren backs off, sliding out of him with a grunt. With effort, he uncurls his fingers from around Viren’s throat. There’s more fumbling sounds, and Soren stands up.

“Now ask me,” Soren’s voice says, softly.

Viren cranes his neck around to look at him. His eyes are downcast, face flushed and mouth set in a stern line.

“Ask me if you did a good job.”

Viren finds his voice, cracked as it is from his screams. “Did I…do a good job, Son?”

Soren huffs out a bitter laugh. He pulls out the ring of keys and opens the cell door.

“No. You were a disappointment.”

The door clangs shut, and Soren’s footfalls grow more distant, until the far door to the chamber opens and also closes with a loud slam. Viren kneels on the cold, hard stone, completely exposed, body bruised and weak, feeling his come slowly crust over on his skin, feeling his son’s come drip thickly out of his ass.

A disappointment.


End file.
